


Forget About the Blame

by LuthienLuinwe



Series: Safe and Sound [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Cheating, Depression, Drug Use, M/M, NO CAPES, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Stalking, Suicidal Thoughts, past abusive relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-08 15:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: Six months after "Somewhere Now" Dick and Jason are struggling. Jason has picked up some bad habits. Dick has fallen into a dark place. One question lingers on both of their minds.Can they be happy again?





	1. Sober

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with some potentially triggering material including but not limited to: abusive relationships and past rape. If you have any concerns about a potential trigger, please reach out to me [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/luthienluinwe) and I will provide you with appropriate spoilers.

**“I know I messed up and it might be over. Let me call you when I’m sober. I’m a dandelion; you’re a four-leaf clover. So let me call you when I’m sober.”**

As far as bad days went, he figured it could have been a hell of a lot worse. Sure he didn’t remember where he’d left his wallet, and his keys were God-only-knew where, though in hindsight that may have been for the best. And yeah, maybe he couldn’t stand up without leaning on someone for support. But really, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. 

No, on the list of the shitty days of Jason Todd, this one fell somewhere lower than finding his mom dead on their living room floor and somewhere higher than being kicked out of his foster home the second he’d turned eighteen. 

“You here alone?” a stranger had asked him. He wasn’t even that attractive. But fuck, he was lonely and he was there, and so Jason had nodded and cracked a joke that wasn’t even all that funny, but the man had laughed all the same. 

“Does it matter?” Jason responded and took the man’s hand, letting him lead him back to God-only-knew where. It was easy, living like that. Or at least that was what he told himself when the inevitable hangover kicked in, just like it always did, and when whatever stranger he’d brought home with him had left for the night. 

It was easier to drown himself out, to drown the world out. Once upon a time, he never would have gone near the stuff, any of it. But then life had handed him Roy Harper, and then life had teased him with Dick Grayson, and even three months after the breakup, Jason was still pining for him, no matter how much he wouldn’t admit to it. And so he drank whatever and smoked whatever and tried to clear his mind, tried to become comfortably numb, tried to drown out Roy fucking Harper and Dick fucking Grayson.

* * *

_ “Yo, Freshman,” a red-headed stranger had slid into the seat next to Jason, a million-watt smile on his face. What the hell was an obvious upperclassman doing in a lower-level class? Jason didn’t know, and he didn’t particularly want to ask. He was probably just hoping for an easy A as an elective to hit credit requirements. Jason didn’t have time for that. _

_ They had a group assignment due in a month. The professor had been kind enough to let them pick their own groups. And Jason needed someone who was going to be serious about the work. He needed an A in the class to keep his scholarship. He needed an A in the class to stay in the program he’d dreamed about all his life. “Can I help you?” _

_ “Partner up with me,” the redhead balanced back on two legs of his chair. “Name’s Roy.” _

_ “Jason,” Jason sighed and glanced around the lecture hall, hoping to see someone,  _ anyone,  _ else who didn’t have a partner, only to come up short. Damn kids at the commuter school had known each other all their lives.  _

_ “Jason,” the man, Roy, smiled at him. “Buy you coffee sometime?” _

_ Jason rolled his eyes. Was the guy looking for a project partner or a date? Still, he was cute. And sweet. So why not? “I’d like that.” _

* * *

He woke up with his head pounding and his mouth feeling like someone had stuffed cotton into it. He rolled away from the stranger next to him (what was his name again?) and pulled his clothes back on, double-checking for his wallet and leaving before the guy could wake up. Months after the break-up and he still hated coming home alone.

What was there to come home to? An empty apartment he could barely afford and neighbors that were too loud? At least Dick had a fucking mansion he got to go back to.

No.

He didn’t want to think about Dick Grayson and his perfect like. Did Jason just not fit in the plan? Dick had said they’d both just gotten together too soon. Had they? Maybe somewhere deep down Jason knew that was the truth. But somewhere on the surface he didn’t want to believe it. Because it was easier to believe someone else was the problem, and that he’d had nothing to do with the break-up.

Because the words kept him up at night, kept him tossing and turning at night.  _ And how well did trusting someone wouldn’t hurt you go for you last time?  _ He’d been scared. Hell, scared hadn't even begun to describe it. He was terrified, absolutely terrified of Roy, that Roy would find him again, that Roy would hurt him again.

That Roy would be sober again and Jason would fall for him all over again only to end up getting hurt again and again and again.

* * *

_ Jason was never one for stupid jokes. But somehow when Roy told them, he didn’t mind as much. Roy had a casual confidence about him. He made people want to get to know him better. And Jason ate it right up. “So how’s a guy like you still single?” Roy leaned in on his elbows, and Jason could feel the heat rush to his cheeks. _

_ Hell if he knew. _

_ “Just never really had time,” Jason shrugged and took a sip of his latte. He tried to look anywhere but into Roy’s bright green eyes. God, it was like they could see straight into his soul. How many people had he charmed with that before? “And never really found the right person.What about you?” _

_ Roy shrugged, and Jason took another drink. “Just never really thought about it. Too focused on school.” _

_ Jason nodded and pretended not to see the way Roy’s eyes shifted away when he gave the answer. They’d met off campus. Jason hadn't thought anything about it. Campus coffee was terrible, and the place Roy had chosen was quaint, quiet. _

_ It was nice. _

_ "So what about the project?” Jason asked, changing the subject. They did have that due date after all. _

_ “Know something, Jaybird?” Roy leaned in impossibly closer. “I don’t give a damn about the project.” _

* * *

He knew better than to text Dick. Really he did. But that was when he was sober, and he was nothing but. Sure it was only noon. Sure he’d called in for the second time that month. But everything was too much to deal with, and he needed to numb it out, and the last thing he wanted to do was sit at his desk while his eyes glazed over as he read whatever shitty thing someone who thought they were the next Great American Author had sent their way.

_ ‘Hey Goldie,’  _ he texted.  _ ‘Miss you.’ _

And God he did. He missed Dick more than anything in the world. He missed coming home to someone who cared. He missed the little things. Watching shitty movies, playing videogames, listening to Dick laugh about whatever stupid case he or a coworker had seen that day. Because they never talked about the bad.

Maybe they would have lasted if they had.

He stared at his phone, waiting for a response, and locked it and threw it across the room when none came.

And honestly, what had he expected?

Dick wanted a break.

Dick wanted to take a big step back.

Jason had said the shitty thing…

He shut his eyes and moved to the couch, wrapping a throw blanket around his shoulders and curling up on his side, watching whatever shitty daytime drama was on TV. He wondered what Dick was up to. If he’d gone back to work. If he was in a hospital somewhere. Honestly, after the company picnic, Jason couldn’t blame him.

He groaned when he heard his phone buzz against the floor and reluctantly pulled himself off the couch to go see who was texting him. His heart flipped in his chest at the possibility that it was Dick, that they would start talking again, and that talking would maybe lead to something more… 

He bent down, picked up the phone, and groaned when he saw his boss’s number pop across the screen.  _ ‘Just checking in. Think you’ll make it in tomorrow?’ _

Jason glanced at the clock. Two in the afternoon and he was already drunk and aching for more.  _ ‘Pretty nasty stomach flu,’  _ he lied. God, lying was so much easier when he didn’t have to talk face to face or on the phone. How many times had Roy lied to him via text?  _ ‘Let you know in the morning.’ _

No. He wasn’t like Roy. He was just having a rough patch. Roy was an addict. Jason could quit any time he wanted to. 

Couldn’t he?

_ ‘Okay,’  _ his boss responded, and Jason breathed a sigh of relief. He knew he couldn’t keep getting away with it, though. Hell, he’d showed up to work hungover just the week prior. Tomorrow. He’d quit tomorrow.

He knew it was a lie.

And he didn’t care anymore.


	2. I'm Like a Lawyer With the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off

**“The best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact is realize two out of three ain’t bad.”**

Dick lay in his bed, curled up under four or five different blankets. He liked the weight of him. They kept him safe. Secure. Nothing bad could happen as long as he was inside those four walls underneath those four blankets.  _ Oh we’ve met,  _ her words kept ringing in his ears, even months later.

He hadn't left the house in days.

What if she was there?

She couldn’t get to him. Not as long as he was in the manor. Not as long as Bruce and Alfred were there. They wouldn’t let him

A knock on his door startled him out of bed. He glanced over at his alarm clock sitting on the nightstand, bright red letters illuminating what had been a peacefully dark room, his blackout curtains drowning out whatever light the sun was trying to force in. Four in the afternoon already? 

Great. Another day gone.

He rolled out of bed and crossed his room, cracking the door open. “Hey,” Tim greeted. “Can I come in?” Dick nodded and opened the door further, wide enough to let the teen come in. He watched as Tim took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Damian’s worried about you.”

“Just Damian?” Dick raised an eyebrow.

“We’re all worried about you.”

“Well you shouldn’t be,” Dick sighed and sat down next to Tim. He needed to act like everything was okay, even when everything was so fucking far from being okay. Someone had to be the backbone of their little brood, and Tim was too young to take on that responsibility. “I’ll be fine, okay?” he asked.

“And how many times have I heard you say that before?” Tim raised an eyebrow.

Dick sighed and fell back against his bed.

“I really hate it when you’re right.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Tim asked, and Dick glanced over at him. How the hell was he supposed to know that? Everyone had told him he’d get back to normal before he knew it. But everyone else didn’t have to look over their shoulder every five minutes because a violent person with a grudge might be standing behind them.

Normal people didn’t panic at the drop of a hat… did they?

“I’ll be fine,” Dick lied, and even he didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth anymore.  _ Dick, I think maybe you should consider some time in a mental hospital… _

“You can do better than Jason,” Tim put a hand on his shoulder, and Dick jerked away.  _ Oh, we’ve met.  _ “Sorry. I forgot…”

“It’s fine,” Dick sighed and shut his eyes. It was the furthest thing from fine. But Tim was a good kid. He didn’t mean any harm. He wasn’t  _ her. _

So why the hell was his heart still pounding in his chest?

* * *

The paperwork had been strewn across his bedroom floor for days. He hadn't wanted to think about it, let alone fill it out. Filling it out made everything too real. And everyone at the station was going to know, that was if they didn’t know already. And he could still hear his former collegues’ voices ringing in his head.  _ You’ve got what, a hundred pounds on her? _

_ What’s the matter, Grayson? Afraid of a little girl? _

But Gotham PD was supposed to be different. Bruce had said so. Gordon had said so. But they weren’t down in the thick of it. And yeah, maybe third shift had worked better for awhile, but between the breakup and  _ her…  _ No, he didn’t want to think about her.

_ Afraid of a little girl? _

_ I swear I didn’t know. _

Dick took a deep breath and re-organized the papers. He sat at the desk in his room, pen in hand, and started to fill them out. He’d thought he just needed a few sick days. But then he’d run out of sick leave. And then he’d run out of vacation leave. And honestly, he was lucky Gordon hadn't fired him yet, and God, what if Gordon fired him, and then Dick had failed in not one but  _ two  _ policing positions? No precinct would hire him then…

_ Dick, you’re going to need to take some time off of work,  _ his psychiatrist (damn Bruce for making him see her as well as a therapist) had told him.  _ Quite a bit of time off of work. _

He took a deep, shaky breath, and continued on with his request.

* * *

**Employee Name:** Richard J. Grayson

**Employee Title:** Patrol Officer

**Regular Work Schedule:** M: 10pm-6AM, W-Sat: 10pm-6AM

**Provider Name:** Dinah Lance

**Field of Medical Practice / Specialty:** Psychiatry

**Length of Time Requested:** Three Months

**Is Employee Able to Perform Job Functions?:** No

**Describe Relevant Medical Facts for the Employee Seeking Leave:** Severe depression, General Anxiety Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, Panic attacks multiple times per day. Hospitalization strongly encouraged.

**Has Employee Been Prescribed Any Medications Other than Over the Counter Medication?:** Yes   
  


* * *

Bruce was going to kill him. But when Dick had gone to the station to drop off his FMLA paperwork he’d seen Sergeant Cavalry being discharged… And, well… She’d always been his favorite K9 in training, and he couldn’t just let her go off to the shelter where God-only-knew-what would happen to her.

Besides, hadn't Bruce said he was willing to do whatever it took to get Dick back to being his old self again? “Ah, Grayson lives,” one of his shift-mates greeted with a smile, and Dick forced one in return. He kept looking over his back, never knew if  _ she  _ would be there or not… But surely to God she didn’t know where he was working, right?  _ Idiot. There’s only one other place you would be working. _

“Where’s she headed?” Dick nodded to the dog, who was chasing her tail in a circle, completely unaware of what was going on around her.

“Gotham Metro Shelter,” the fellow officer answered. “Shame. She was really shaping up to be a good one.”

“Can I take her?” Dick asked with a hope in his voice he hadn't heard in months. What was the point in getting his hopes up when they always came crashing down again? 

“Ask Gordon,” the officer sighed, and Dick couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. Gordon would never tell him no.

He just hoped Bruce would be on board too.

* * *

“We don’t need another dog, Dick,” Bruce crossed his arms. Dick had tried to sneak the German Shepherd in, but Alfred had sold him out. He should have known better. Still, he knew if it were Damian, Bruce would have let it go and not given it another thought. Why did things always have to be harder for the eldest child?  _ Because you’re supposed to know better,  _ he could hear Bruce lecturing him. “Especially not a failed police dog.”

“They were going to put her down,” Dick said and knelt down beside Cavalry, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He didn’t know how to explain it, but it was like being near the dog calmed him in a way little else could. He hadn't even panicked on his way home like he normally did.  _ What if she’s following me home? _

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Bruce sighed, and the dog let out a low, sad moan.

“I’m a failed police officer,” Dick said in a broken voice, the words coming out making his heart ache, making him realize it was true. What kind of an officer had to take a break for mental health reasons? What kind of an officer let his former coworkers scare him away? 

What kind of an officer let himself get in the position he’d been in in the first place? 

“Are you going to get rid of me too?”

“That’s not fair,” Bruce sighed, and Dick cocked an eyebrow. What did fair have to do with anything, anyway? He needed that dog. And the dog needed him. And when Bruce ran a hand through his hair and shut his eyes, Dick knew he had one, at least for the time being. “Okay. But you’re taking care of her.”

Dick pulled Bruce into a tight hug, not wanting to let him go. “Thank you,” he whispered softly.

It was about damn time something went right. 


End file.
